An Eagles' Sight
by Vilmarix
Summary: Among the many quirks the crowned prince possessed most which were annoying , there was one that caught the young warlock's attention. Companion and Sequel to a 'A Spider's Love'. Can be read without the other, but some reference might not be understood. Arthur/Merlin Pre-Slash, Slight PTSD Arthur.


Disclaimer: I own nothing...

**A/N:** This is a companion and somewhat a sequel to my fic _'A Spider's Love'_, even though it can be read without the other, some references may not be understood.

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**An Eagles' Sight **

Soon after Merlin began working for the crowned Prince of Camelot, he started to notice several idiosyncrasies the blonde possessed. However there was one quirk in particular that stoked the curious side of the sorcerer.

Whenever, they would go out into the wilderness, with or without the knights, Merlin observed that the blonde refused to sight the fire place, when he was roasting an animal for a meal. If the Prince couldn't leave the camping area, he would sit at the furthest point away from the flames, away from the smoke. Nevertheless when the direction of the wind would change and carry the smell of the cooking meal towards the seated Prince, the warlock became aware of Arthur's suppressed disgust and the wrinkling of his nose.

At first the raven thought it was the meal itself, but as time went by as he studied the blonde, he learned that the Knight showed no distaste towards his food and occasionally complimented him for his skill.

Clearly baffled by the blonde's behaviour and annoyed that he couldn't find the reason behind it, the manservant resorted to asking his employer about it.

It had been a long tiring day, for the entire group, which comprised of a few Knights, the Prince and himself. They had completed a quest that was both physically as well as mentally exhausting, and now were currently making their way back toward the city. All the Knights had immediately dropped their sleeping bags, when the blonde selected a location to spend the night. However despite the fatigue they had earned through the mission, Merlin noted that the Prince didn't follow their course of action.

Instead opted to sit by the flame with a cup of ale and stare deeply into the flames. Another habit that the Warlock noticed the man had, throughout the months of service. One he always found the aftermath of, when he returned in the morning to do his chores. It seemed that this was the blonde's way of showing guilt and remorse, since he would practice this course of action after they argued and the larger male would utter something drastically harsh. It was not what Merlin would consider an apology, but bearing in mind Arthur's pride, position and emotional reclusiveness; it was the closest thing he could receive to a request for forgiveness.

_For which he would give, every single time. _

**X**

"What's the matter?" the raven casually asked as he went to stroke the burning embers.

As if he was burned, the older male snapped out of his thoughts and turned towards the speaker. The light the fireplace gave, made the Heir's summer blue eyes turn a clear shade of violet, but it never lost the intensity of the blonde's gaze. Holding a flush that was creeping up his neck, which was caused by the amount of attention he received from the older male's penetrative stare, the sorcerer repeated his query.

"What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." The other man answered shortly, before returning his focus towards the dancing flames. The raven almost missed the attention he had.

"Don't lie to me."

At that statement, Merlin spotted a small cryptic but sad smile grace the Prince's lips for fleeting second before it was suppressed as well. There was brief silence, where the raven accepted that the larger male wasn't going to speak about his feeling and allowed the moment to slide.

The task they had been assigned to do by the King, was an investigation on the strange deaths that were occurring in a rural village, doing so they found that the person responsible for the murders was a child gone mad with revenge and grief. Arthur had been extremely determined to save the boy from self-destruction, but his faith was shaken when he heard that the cause for the child's madness was death of his family.

They were victims of infamous purge of King Uther.

The blonde had been strangely and almost out of character, with his compassion towards the youngster. However the child was too far gone to reason with, for he impaled himself on the Prince's drawn sword. Merlin was close enough to hear the boy's dying word and he still shivered when he recalled them.

"_There, now your hands are stained with my blood. Just as your father's are with my family's."_

Merlin watched as the other man stiffened with shock, but moments later regain his composure and remove the blade from the child's torso. The Knights and he included observed in silence as their future king wrap the boy's body in his cloak and requested the villagers to give the child a proper burial. This action surprised the warlock, since they found that the youngster had been using magic to cause the deaths of the villagers and people who were executed due to magic by other means apart from burning at the stake; were burnt and the charred remains were crudely disposed.

'Maybe the crown Prince isn't against magic, as his father is.' The raven absently thought as stroke the flames again. Silence and tension began to leak into the air as the manservant looked at his employer, who was still lost in thought. Disliking both the anxiety of the mood and the emotional storm the blonde was locking up, Merlin blurted out his curiosity.

"Why do you hate the smell of roasting?"

The blonde turned and blinked at him in confusion. Sighing mentally, the smaller male explained.

"You don't like to sit near the campfire when we roast one of your hunts and when you do, you sit furthers away and look disgusted when you catch even a whiff of the smell."

The manservant's response was a blank stare before the Prince broke into a series of soft chuckles. Happy at the fact, he managed to break the other man from his self-depreciating mood and annoyed that he was being laughed at, Merlin waited for the blonde to settle down.

"My, my, my." Arthur commented absently, tone tinged with humour, "Looks like the raven has an eagle's sight."

Now it was the warlock's turn to be confused. Misinterpreting the reason for his aid's silence, Arthur sighed and explained, "It means that you can notice little details from a far, Idiot."

"I knew that." The warlock shot back, slightly annoyed by the jab. However he didn't argue back, because from the time spent with the blonde, he could tell that the larger male was trying to divert the conversation from the current topic. Not feeling as charitable as before, Merlin pressed the issue.

"So, why do you hold so much contempt towards the aroma?"

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The Prince must have know that his manservant wasn't going to let the topic slide, until he received a satisfactory explanation, because the blonde Knight looked away from him and returned his gaze towards the camp fire. There was a brief moment when he took a drink from his cup before answering simply.

"It reminds me of the smell of burning human flesh."

Merlin's eyes widen in surprise as he waited for the man to continue. Never before did the raven see the Prince so weary and resigned, as if he was carrying a heavy burden and was forbidden to speak about it.

"I was no more than ten summers when I was instructed by my father to attended a public execution. Being naive and ignorant, I hadn't asked anyone about the death sentence and thought it was beheading or a hanging for a crime such as murder." Arthur nearly spat out the last line.

Merlin was about to speak, when the crown heir spoke again.

"He was about my age, if not older, and I watched him struggled in the grips of the knights, as they hoisted him to the stake and tied him there." Taking another sip of ale, "They read his offence to the gathered crowd, 'Use of magic' it stated and they light the flame at his feet."

Closing his eyes Arthur let out a weary sigh, "I will never forget that boy's screams, when the flames began to lick his skin or the way he struggled hopelessly against the binding." Pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, "But the smell was the worst. That stench of burning meat, human meat, was too consuming. So kept my face blank, posture stiff, like I have been trained to, and allowed the memory burn into my mind."

To see so much self loathing and revulsion on the blonde's face was quite startling for the warlock. Suddenly, the man behaviour towards the child they encountered today began making sense. The boy reminded the Knight of one that was burnt on the stake and he was trying to gain some form of closure. Glancing down, Merlin saw that the death grip the larger male had on his mug and whiteness of his knuckles. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, the raven haired aid, slowly and gently laid a hand on the Knights arm.

"You were only ten years old. There was nothing you could do."

Arthur looked down on the pale hand that placed on the forearm before giving the warlock a small tight sad smile.

"What you don't do is as important, as what you do."

"If you could, what would you have done?"

"Anything other than watching a boy being burnt to death."

Tightening his grip on the blonde's arm to gain the attention of the blonde Merlin firmly stated, "Arthur it was not your fault. Not then and not now."

Allowing him a moment away from the schooling he received in his youth, the Prince sagged in weariness and muttered, "Somehow I cannot help but feel responsible."

"You're not." The warlock stated.

Rising from his seat and walking towards his sleeping mat, with his back to his manservant, the Prince asked, "Says who?"

"I do." Merlin answered, as if it was the simplest most obvious concept in the world. The blonde paused for a moment before lowering himself on to the mat. It was a pity that the man's back faced the young sorcerer, for those two words simple words allowed the Pendragon to smile openly in soft relief.

"Goodnight, Merlin." The same manner of speaking had returned, after the blonde knight released some of his bottled emotions but his voice was considerably lighter in comparison to before.

"Goodnight, Arthur." The warlock returned, before he went to clear the camp site a bit and add more wood to the dying fire.

**X**

Picking up the sack that carried the ale; Merlin noted the lightness of it. 'Seems alcohol loosen lips, like no other truth potion.' The raven idly thought before laying on his own mat, allowing the toll of the day carry him off to a deep sleep.

However what the raven wasn't aware of, was a pair two summer blue eyes watching his sleeping form and a soft mummer,

"_Thank you."_

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**A/N:** ...That was intense... I was reading an article on PTSD and came across the passage where it stated some smells trigger memories in veterans, and that led to the plot of this fic. Believe me, when I say I didn't expect it to turn so dark and angst. I was aiming for a bit of drama, but to change an entire belief system, Arthur had to have witness some traumatic events...

Forgive me if the Prince seems a bit too out of character in scene where he tells Merlin the reason behind the quirk, but I'm placing the blame on the influence of the alcohol.

Please review, I'm really worried about this piece... Anything is welcome constructive criticism, questions, suggestions, opinions, comments, corrections etc.


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